


Voyeur

by BookofOdym



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookofOdym/pseuds/BookofOdym
Summary: Slade captures Oliver and has his way with him. Barry is forced to watch.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Oliver Queen, Oliver Queen/Slade Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	Voyeur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salazarastark (niewanyin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niewanyin/gifts).



Barry had received what he considered to be quite an odd text at lunchtime, in fact, just as he had sat down to bite into his large sandwich, his phone had started to buzz. On the screen, read the words "382 42nd street, Star City. Midnight." The text came from Oliver's phone. 

To clarify, the fact that it came from Oliver's phone at all wasn't the odd thing, Oliver tended to text him a lot, at all times of the night, and it wasn't the short, almost rude state of the message that was odd. That was nothing new for Oliver, he tended to be curt, Barry didn't think he had ever gotten a text that was more than 10 words out of Oliver. The other man just didn't tend to send them while he was at work, because he didn't want the speedster's coworkers to look over his shoulder at an inopportune time and wonder why a sometimes billionaire, sometimes mayor was texting him. They would probably assume that Barry had found himself a sugar daddy (although it was really more the other way around), but there was always the chance that they'd connect them to the local vigilantes. 

Barry shook his head in disbelief, but decided that the text was just something for their other job, that Oliver just wanted him around for a stakeout, Barry set aside the strange text for the rest of the day, and it wasn't like he had to deal with it immediately, the text did say midnight. 

He rushed over to Star City at the allotted time, well, to be honest, he was slightly late. But when was Barry not late? Oliver would be used to it by now. 

Except now that Barry was glancing around, he noticed that he couldn't see Oliver anywhere nearby. He wasn't on the rooftops, he wasn't prowling in the alley, he wasn't standing behind Barry glaring at him judgingly. He was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the street outside was completely clear of people, although the door was propped open invitingly. The archer must have already gone inside, even though the situation must have been dangerous if he even considered calling Barry over in the first place. 

Taking a deep breath, the speedster stepped inside too, already expecting the worst. Although ironically, even Barry's worst expectations, which involved the Green Arrow sprawled on the floor bleeding out, prepared him for the reality that faced him inside that warehouse. 

Oliver was chained to the wall, and the skin of his body was covered in bruises, which Barry could tell because the archer was utterly naked. Some of the marks looked like boot prints. The look on Oliver's face as he spat something out at the only other person in the building was one of pure fury. A large brunet man towered over him, a sadistic smirk plastered on his face, it didn't take Barry long to recognize him as Slade Wilson, Oliver's old enemy. Barry tried to sneak towards the two men, attempting to take the man by surprise with his speed, but he was so distracted by the scene in front of him that he allowed the door to close behind him with a bang. 

Instantly, metal tentacles shot out of the wall, because it was too much to expect that an abandoned warehouse hadn't been tricked out with death traps, Barry wondered how long Deathstroke had been holed up here. It must have been ages if he'd done all that. The tentacles wrapped around Barry's arms and legs, lifting him up off the ground with ease. The speedster desperately tried to vibrate fast enough that he could phase through their molecules, but no matter how fast he moved, the tentacles stayed in place, constricting him. 

Both men whirled around to face him, and if anything, the brunet's grin widened when he saw Barry. "Looks like our guest has arrived, Queen, we can get started. Finally." 

For a moment, it looked like Oliver's eyes were filled with panic. 

The look on the archer's face was so foreign that for a moment, Barry was shocked into stillness, and almost as soon as he stopped struggling, the tentacles began to move, carrying him towards the two men. 

To the speedster's horror, Deathstroke began to open his pants, revealing a monster cock to the world. Eight inches of muscle that looked like it would tear Oliver's ass apart, pushing into him. Roughly, Slade pulled the blond man up, so that his ass pressed right up against the assassin's crotch while standing. 

Slowly, torturously, slowly, Deathstroke started to push in. Barry had assumed that part would be fast, but it was entirely possible that it would just be impossible to do so.

Oliver's eyes were closed as the older man pushed into him all the way to the hilt, and his mouth opened wide to let out a scream of pain when Deathstroke dropped any pretext of concern for him and started to move. The man moved savagely fast; almost as soon as he had pulled all of the way out of Oliver, he was slamming back into him.

Every part of Barry wanted to rush forward towards the two men, and rescue Oliver, or at least comfort him. But he was trapped, trapped, and forced to watch. To his horror, Slade reached up one hand, gripping Oliver's throat, and squeezed down, choking the other man. Oliver thrashed, his face turned blue, but still, Slade kept his hand in place.

"You're killing him!" Barry cried out, only to have one furious eye turned on him.

"I want to kill him," Deathstroke snarled, reaching down to his waist to pick up his gun, pointing it at Barry threateningly. Luckily, Slade had to remove his hand from Oliver's throat to do so, well he didn't have to, Barry supposed, but he did, because he must have favored that hand or something.

Oliver took the opportunity to take a deep breath in, but the rush of air to his lungs triggered a different physical response. He came all over his stomach.

* * *

Barry dashed through the city with Oliver on his back, he was moving at top speed, because wherever Slade had put Oliver's clothes, Barry hadn't been able to find them. In fact, it was entirely possible that the assassin had burned the clothes. Eventually, after what felt like far too long, but which was realistically after only a couple of seconds, the speedster reached the blond's house. Carefully, he carried the man over the threshold of his own home, his eyes still swimming with the images of what he had seen. 

The speedster tried not to look at the archer's injuries as he carried him through the house. There were two things that Barry knew he needed to do, he needed to clean and dress the archer's wounds, and he needed to clean the dried semen off of his body. 

He slowed down as he climbed the stairs towards the bathroom, there was no sense in climbing them at speed in his panic and winding up breaking both of their necks. Gently resting, Oliver on the toilet seat as he ran a bath for the other man. Oliver needed a bath first so that Barry could clean off the semen, it seemed like the most important thing to do in the moment. 

Gently, Barry lowered the blond into the lukewarm water, although Oliver still gave no physical response to any outside stimuli. He was lost in his own head, and Barry had no idea how he was supposed to get him back out. It would have to wait though, gingerly, he picked up a sponge, dipped it in the bathwater, and glided the sodden sea creature over the skin of the other man's stomach. For the first time, Oliver visibly flinched in response. 

It wasn't hard to figure out why the dried cum that coated the archer's stomach hadn't been put there by Deathstroke. Oliver had orgasmed during his earlier experience, and he clearly blamed himself for that. 


End file.
